Crimes Against Humanity

By James Donaldson

AN ANCIENT THREAT RETURNS FROM THE SHADOWS TO SUBJUGATE THE EARTH!

After being manipulated as an unwilling pawn in a war between secret societies, Nash finds himself battling a powerful enemy with a global reach. At the center of the conspiracy, Nash matches wits with a mysterious woman who appears to know his every move before even he makes it. When all hope for the future seems lost, only “The Corsair" can prevent the total enslavement of the human race!

Crimes Against Humanity is a fantastical, conspiracy-filled, action-adventure thriller. It’s the "exciting tale of science, magic and a secret society versus 'The Corsair'!"

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Donaldson
• Release date: Mar 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005946838

James Donaldson

James Donaldson, independent author and disabled veteran, is realizing his lifelong dream of writing speculative fiction. James’ writing philosophy revolves around “...eldritch styled adventure stories I’d enjoy reading.”James Donaldson is a former police officer and decorated combat veteran. He currently lives in Utah with his family and works in the national security field.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Although widely dispersed, the highly-discerning group of participants arrived at the clandestine meeting at precisely the same time, regardless of what corner of the globe they physically resided in.

Dozens of television monitors lining three of the four walls in the pitch-black room simultaneously blinked to life, their unnatural glow providing the sole illumination in the massive hall. The electronic displays portrayed the solemn faces of the conspirators as they each securely logged in from their various remote locations. In addition to the numerous video screens, the most senior participants of the mysterious fraternity also attended the gathering virtually, but not by the television monitors. Instead, the group’s most privileged and revered sub-leaders appeared via holographic images, incredibly realistic three-dimensional images projected into the seats carefully arranged around the long, wooden table dominating the middle of the chamber. The state-of-the-art projectors, from well-concealed positions in the ceiling and walls of the room, simulated the senior member’s presence.

At the head of the table, directly in front of the sole entryway into the meeting hall, in a position of authority where one would typically expect a chair slightly larger than the others, no chair waited. This came as a surprise to no one in attendance as they virtually arrived and patiently awaited the start of the meeting. The attendees knew their leader never sat when appearing before their sinister group.

The projected images of people on the walls and in three-dimensional holographic images around the table were clothed the same dark robes. The unemotional faces of the participants clearly visible to everyone else in the room. Although dressed in the same conspiratorial outfits, no one in attendance wore a mask or attempted to conceal their face. Every member knew every other member. No one allowed membership into the ancient order would dare betray their peers, as their fate would be worse than even the physical death of them and their loved ones.

The league of worldwide collaborators, arriving within moments of each other, consisted of every race, sex, age and creed. The exceptional group contained what most people would describe as the planet’s ultra-elite. An exclusive club consisting of former and current elected governmental leaders, celebrities, other well-known persons in the entertainment industry, senior members of the world press, wealthy autocrats who preferred to work from behind the scenes, and several owners of well-known, worldwide companies to include several high-tech, private entities.

Seconds after blinking to life, the electronic summit commenced exactly on the prearranged timetable. None of the members dared to arrive even a second late. The immediate and unmerciful consequences of disrespect to anyone, especially their leader, in their unholy cabal were legendary.

Every virtual face, both projected and displayed, turned toward the entryway as their revered leader, clothed in the same blackened robes as the participants, walked purposely into the room. The woman commanding the group of assembled worldwide powerbrokers and influencers being the sole member physically present for the scheduled meeting.

After a moment’s pause, the group’s enigmatic leader, by joining her thumbs and index fingers, formed a triangle slightly above her midsection as a form of greeting. Releasing the secretive sign, the woman, deliberately slowly, removed the hood of her robe from her head and let it lay along her back. Immediately after the woman removed her hood and lowered her hands, every participant around the planet mimicked her actions by forming a triangle with their hands and slowly removed their hoods in unison. Now, with everyone’s head exposed and everyone’s eyes on her, the cult’s appointed leader, standing proudly at the head of the table, waited silently, daring anyone to avert their gaze from hers or even blink.

No one did. Her command over the attendees remained unquestionable.

Report. The mysterious and attractive woman finally spoke to her assembled disciples. Her single word echoed loudly in the hall.

One by one, the holograms around the table stood and gave their summations on the ongoing and final stages of the operation. Each report began with the formal greeting, My Queen. and ended with the phrase, In honor of the Banished King.

After each of the senior members of the cabal provided their detailed report of their individual assignments, they sat, not waiting for a response to their information nor waiting for any questions. Each of the senior members knew there would be no questions. Any ambiguity in their reports would be seen as failure as they laid out the current status of the operation from their perspective, both the good and bad. Even a slight exaggeration of the facts brought with it severe discipline. After the holographic images completed their statements and sat, the subsequent holographic person in line would stand and begin their report. My Queen…

Slightly over an hour later, the last senior member from around the table, via their projected image, concluded his report. …and after a successful final test of the device, we expect no issues or delays in the implementation of their plan. In honor of the Banished King.

As the last member sat, the virtual attendee again turned their undivided attention toward their female leader standing authoritatively at the head of the table.

Every eye focused intently on the woman, meeting her gaze, and waited patiently for her response to the reports concerning the last phases of the operation. To her credit, their leader’s face betrayed nothing and the woman’s thoughts remained completely undecipherable. After several minutes of complete silence, the robed woman whispered her response to the holographic and televised faces waiting respectively in total silence. Although she whispered, the woman knew her acolytes heard her command to them as they all immediately bowed their heads in acknowledgment. The powerful microphone on the table in front of the woman functioned perfectly and everyone heard her order clearly around the globe despite it barely being audible in the room. After issuing her command, the woman slowly turned and strode out of the hall, a slight smile forming at the corners of her mouth. As she departed, her single order, although only a whisper, echoed ominously off the walls of the room - an order which sent chills down the spine of everyone who heard it.

Let the conquest of the Earth begin.

In the now deserted hall, one by one, the screens and projected images of bowed heads blinked out from existence until only darkness remained.

* * * * * * *

Walking down a long and elegantly decorated corridor, with no one around to see her, the woman turned a corner and arrived at the room unofficially dubbed the Forbidden Chamber. The duel massive doors, inlaid with numerous unholy symbols, their exact meanings lost to the ages, caused even the most devout followers of her thousands-year-old plus cult to quicken their pace if they found themselves unlucky enough to have to pass by the imposing entrance while carrying out their assigned duties.

Although the woman presumed she stood alone in front of the double doors, she glanced around her to verify her assumption. Completely alone, she walked to the left of the entryway and entered a number combination into the modern, electronic keypad. She then placed her outstretched hand on a rectangular device above the keypad as it scanned her palm print.

BOOM!

A thunderous sound from inside the Forbidden Chamber let the woman know she’d successfully unlocked the fortified entranceway. Despite their incredible weight, the cult leader easily pushed open the double doors. The well-balanced and cleverly designed hinges allowing even the slightest touch to open or close the immense doors once unlocked.

The well-illuminated chamber, lined from floor to ceiling in marble with pure gold, decorative accents at the corners and along the seams, contained a single object. An object known to exist by all the living cult members, but only ever seen by the woman. An object of incredible age and incalculable worth. A single statue, carved from an unknown substance, in the image of the true, past and future leader of the woman’s ancient and mystic organization waited in the center of the Forbidden Chamber.

The graven image of the Banished King.

Poised at the entryway, the woman smiled to herself wickedly as she gazed lovingly upon the enormous, awe-inspiring image of her deity. The flawlessly crafted sculpture depicted a blasphemous creature long since banished from the surface of the Earth. An expulsion so long in the ancient past, so long lost to antiquity, humans had all but forgotten such a creature had ever even existed.

As arrogance, combined with an extreme sense of optimism, filled the woman, she smiled even wider and even more wickedly. Her thoughts dwelled, with supreme confidence, on the eventual reward of untold wealth and unlimited authority over the inhabitants of the planet promised to her - a reward to be conferred immediately after her deity’s prophesied and now unstoppable return.

Carefully, the woman removed the contact lenses from her eyes and placed them in a hidden pocket of her robe. She desired to gaze upon the image without anything artificial between her true eyes and her treasured effigy. Unsnapping a hidden clasp under her robe, the woman’s garment silently slipped off her shoulders and gently fell to the floor. After completing these slight and almost undetectable movements, the cult leader continued standing completely still at the threshold to the chamber for several heartbeats. Finally, the entirely nude woman carefully stepped over the clothing pooled at her bare feet and gracefully entered the Forbidden Chamber.

No one can stop us now, my King. The woman whispered prophetically to the inanimate object.

Closing and bolting the massive doors behind her, the woman enthusiastically began her unnatural worship of the oversized image of her profane god.

PART I

DARK SKY

ONE

Impossibly, the Improvised Explosive Device, or IED, detonated in complete silence. A split second before the explosion, I observed the object concealed in some trash along the side of the road. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to yank the steering wheel away from the deadly trap before I drove alongside it. As my mind recognized the danger, I observed the bright flash of light, but I didn’t hear the IED actually detonate. Instantaneously, the interior of the military vehicle filled with thick, black smoke, robbing me of my ability to see. Instinctively, I understood the IED must have made a sound, but the explosion had undoubtedly ruptured my eardrums as soon as it detonated.

Deaf and blind, but not yet dead, I felt the force of the blast rock my body moments before…

No! I screamed. Waking from my dream, I instantly became angry at the unpleasant memory, a memory pretending to be a dream, for having the audacity to invade my subconscious as I slept.

Returning to the realm of consciousness, I immediately dismissed the memory of that horrible day, so many years ago, and instead focused on the present. Finding myself prone on the hard ground, I examined my surroundings.

Where am I? I thought.

It took me a moment to remember where and why I found myself lying under the stars, deep in the western desert of the United States, and I began searching the surrounding terrain for any threats which might have crept up on me as I slept.

Nothing.

Smiling to myself, glad to find myself in the present and in no immediate danger, I glanced at the time on the tactical watch on my wrist, my lucky dive watch left securely at home, and made the deliberate decision to continue on toward my objective instead of attempting to lay back down and grab some more rest.

My decision to stay awake and continue walking had nothing to do with the unpleasant memories waiting for me in my dreams and everything to do with my mission.

At least that’s the lie I told myself.

Rolling up the poncho liner I used as a makeshift sleeping bag, I removed the dry branches concealing my gear and placed my crude sleeping aid into an oversized pocket on my backpack.

With several hours of darkness left until daylight, I heaved the heavy pack onto my back and checked the azimuth on my compass, careful not to make any unnecessary noise and definitely avoided using any artificial light sources.

I’d come too far to be detected now.

With my eyes on the terrain directly in front of me, I continued walking toward my objective, still several kilometers away in the dark. Ignoring the desire to glance into the heavens and enjoy the stars shining bright overhead, I instead looked forward at my path, knowing avoiding stepping into a hole and twisting my ankle superseded any desire I had to stargaze.

Out of the corner of my eye, I detected the millions of points of light overhead. The west desert sky of northeastern Nevada and western Utah, far from civilization, with the lack of any light pollution and in a military no-fly area, provided the ideal environment to admire the vastness of the awe-inspiring universe overhead.

But I had a different purpose for being here.

I had to shoot a man.

Not just any man, but the President of the United States of America.

And, to make matters worse, I had to shoot him, but not with any weapon, but with a specially designed gun equipped with an oversized scope, a scope almost the same size as the futuristic appearing rifle it sat on.

These were more half-truths, than truths, of course.

In reality, the man I hunted wasn’t actually the President and the weapon I carried couldn’t kill anyone. Instead, it fired a unique laser designed to set off a specialized sensor worn on the chest of a presidential imposture.

My mission, in full cooperation with the United States Secret Service, although subcontracted to me via numerous shadowy agencies, was to attempt to assassinate a stand-in pretending to be the President. If successful, the laser device I carried, firing from over a mile away, striking the President’s double anywhere in his upper body, would trigger his personal alarm sensors, simulating a successful hit.

The fact I had been hired to perform this task and never once met with any actual Secret Service agents themselves didn’t faze me. I assumed the cloak and dagger work was in place to protect my identity from them, not vice versa.

The men and women tasked to protect the leader of the free world wanted to test their Tactics, Techniques and Procedures, or TTPs, in an austere desert environment. In this case, a controlled environment simulating the terrain commonly found in the Middle East. The Secret Service felt confident they could secure the area and protect the President from a long-range sniper threat.

Commissioned and paid a small ransom in advance so I couldn’t refuse, I planned to prove the Secret Service wrong.

Their plan, as I understood it, was to secure the area twenty-four hours prior to the arrival of the fake POTUS, or President of the United States. The Secret Service felt extremely confident they could control access to the area and it would be impossible for anyone to infiltrate close enough to attempt to shoot at POTUS.

They were right.

The way I figured it, I had one chance to outflank the Secret Service and to take the shot. I had to think outside the box. I had to tackle the problem via unconventional, asymmetric warfare methods.

I had to cheat.

Honor didn’t factor into the equation at all for me. I didn’t consider my plan cheating in the traditional sense at all. Winning, while simultaneously preparing friendly forces for the unpredictability and reality of battle, calculated as a win in my mind. The enemy doesn’t necessarily adhere to the rules and I wouldn’t either.

Besides, this was a war-game simulation anyway. The Secret Service would call foul at me bending the rules, but after the preverbal dust settles, they would adjust accordingly and their TTPs would be even better.

As it stood now, I knew the Secret Service would establish a perimeter and secure the area an entire day prior to the arrival of the fake POTUS. According to the rules, I wasn’t allowed to insert into the area until the Secret Service secured the area.

The hell with that!

My plan, contrary to their rules, consisted of arriving a day prior to the Secret Service and two days prior to the arrival of the counterfeit POTUS. Thus, I knew the Secret Service and POTUS stand-in would arrive after I had already set up my sniper position.

I planned on creating a firing position well in advance of even the Secret Service advance team. If I waited until they arrived first, I could never infiltrate close enough.

That’s why they hired me, anyway, because of my reputation of winning, one way or another. That’s why those in the know hired the Corsair when they could.

Silently